Chapter I
SERA
Whenever I fall asleep, I dream of someone else’s memories.
I’ve been having these dreams for so long my mind has started to appropriate them for itself. Those memories are mine now. I’ve dreamt them. They are so real that I feel them. I may not have lived them the moment they first happened, but I live them every single night.
It’s me that the girl with the eyes shining like the moon on a dark night smiles at with so much love. It’s me that the boy with the haunted eyes and the deep dimples looks at with annoyed fondness, as if he is annoyed that he likes me so much.
They are all mine. I cherish them like someone cherishes a loved one.
In my dreams, Nikolaj no longer exists because he has never existed in this person’s memories. And in my dreams, I can speak. My lips move and they form sounds. When I sing, the girl with the pretty eyes sings back to me. When I say something stupid, the boy with the deep eyes and dimples laughs with me.
It is all mine. Mine, mine, mine.
I try to look at my house from the perspective of Dante while he’s busy eating my cheesy potato dish with rabbit meat he hunted for me (he’s eating it like he’s never eaten before and at the same time like he has all the time in the world and that he owns everything in it). He is always visiting me so I am trying to see what he likes so much about it.
My house is tiny. Which I love. It’s a two-room cabin but it still has everything I need. But perhaps Dante doesn’t love it, because he is a very big creature and he has large and long limbs and he told me once he can’t sit in small spaces for too long because his legs get all weird and stiff and he needs space to be able to spread out like a star in the sky. He spent the last six months trying to convince me to let him give me a bigger place even though I kept telling him that I didn’t need more. This house was mine and I was not going to give it up. But now I feel bad because maybe he only wanted me to move to somewhere else so that he could feel more at ease.
Dante looks up from his rapidly vanishing food to stare at me.
“Silver for your thought, Moondust?”
He calls me Moondust because of my hair, which he says reminds him of the full moon in a dark night. He has that everlasting smug grin that never leaves his face, which means, he is enjoying this a lot. He is always enjoying everything a lot. He is unable to be cross.
"Do you want me to switch places because this one is too small for you and you don’t like it? Would you feel less claustrophobic if I moved?" I tell him honestly since he asked me, my fingers moving like they’re playing with each other.
He stops chewing.
“What?” He says, his eyes blinking rapidly.
His grin! It just disappeared. ”You stopped grinning,” I state. ”Did I upset you? You never stop grinning."
He looks at me like I’ve turned into a frog and cursed him into becoming one as well. He shakes his head, goes back to eating. He’s almost finished so I give some more.
“You know moondust, I would give anything to be able to see what’s going inside that little pretty head of yours. And to answer your question, no, I don’t want you to move out because of me. And to answer your other question, no you did not upset me.” He grins, that smile he usually has when he’s trying to charm, looking at me through hooded eyes with a very satisfied look. “You could never upset me, even if you tried really hard.”
He doesn’t elaborate and I don’t pry for more. I also ignore his comment about my “pretty little head”. And his last comment.
"So you like my place?" I ask instead. ”Is that why you’re always here?"
He guffaws. There’s no other word to describe the way his entire body laughs with him, his head thrown back as he laughs with an open throat. I frown. I did not mean to be funny.
“Is this your subtle way of telling me that I’m no longer welcome here?” He raises a brow, staring me down.
The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. As far as I’m concerned, Dante is mine the way this house is mine and his presence had become a staple in my routine.
"No. You’re mine," I explain to him slowly. ”You are always welcome here. I was just curious to know what makes you come back every time."
There’s a long silence between the moment I stopped signing and the moment he made a sound.
It was a choked kind of sound, like a rabbit that got ensnarled in a hunter’s trap. In a blink, I’m behind him, hitting him on his back.
He raises a large hand and after a few seconds, he is back to normal.
"Luna…" He curses and shakes his head. “The things you say…”
"You should be careful while eating."
He grins. “I can’t help it. Your food is divine.”
I roll my eyes.
I can feel his eyes following me as I move to the kitchen. Which reminds me of the last time I felt eyes on me.
I turn back towards him.
“By the way, did someone move in recently?” I ask him, vying for a nonchalant tone. I tell myself that there’s nothing for me to worry about, that there’s a perfectly good reason for it. Besides, worrying is not worth it because then, Dante, with his stupid werewolf senses, would literally smell it and then hound me for answers.
“Nah,” he replies, popping a cherry in his mouth. I’m amazed at how he seems to fit on my big-for-me small-to-him chair, lounging on it without a single care in the world. His legs are sprawled across from him. He has very long legs. “You know we don’t like strangers on our territory. Why?” he asks, suspicion clear on his face.
"Nothing," I lie.
He pops another cherry in his mouth. At that rate, he’s about to eat all my house with me in it.
He hums noncommittally. He knows I’m lying and now he’s acting like he believes me because he thinks I’ll end up breaking. He’s not wrong. How does he know me so well after barely a year?
I groan. Dante once told me he loved my groans because I made no noise and it was hilarious to see.
"Lately it feels as though I am not alone in the woods and that something’s watching me. I thought I saw someone in the woods but I was probably just imagining it."
It’ll never stop being impressive seeing the shift on Dante’s face as he goes from the friendly Dante to the future leader of his pack.
His voice goes slightly deeper, almost stern. “Thank you for telling me. We’ll check that out.”
I don’t like it when he is serious. My stomach churns as if I’ve eaten non-edible berries from the forest. I nod, and turn back to the kitchen.
“Sera,” he says, using my real name. “It’s gonna be alright, okay? I’ve got you. Whoever’s been watching you will pay for scaring you. And I’m sorry for scaring you. I know you don’t like my serious voice. I’ll be honest, I don’t either,” he cracks a grin.
"I prefer moondust," I say. Though Sera was the name I went by for as long as I could remember, it never truly felt mine. Not like how this house was mine and Dante was mine and his pack was mine.
He winks at me, his face breaking into the largest, prettiest smile. I smile back, though mine isn’t half as pretty. If the way his smile slightly dimmed and his eyes got intense tracking my lips is anything to go by.
The windows rattle as a particularly strong gust of wind howled past my house. My curtains, pink and yellow, fly inwards.
“How long has your window been leaking the cold from outside?” Dante asks, his full attention shifting to the issue at hand. He says he is a wolf but he acts more like a cat. He hates when I say that.
I don’t need to look at him to know he’s already drafting up plans to fix my windows. He’s funny like that, my Dante. I don’t try to fight him on it because it distracts him from what I told him and that works for me.
I tap my foot on the floor to the beat of an invisible rhythm because I can’t hum or sing and my body desperately wants to. I crack two eggs against my wooden bowl and pour them in my mixture of melted butter, sugar and vanilla. The batter becomes wet and then I add in the flour. It thickens until it becomes hard enough to knead.
I don’t startle when Dante gets behind me and gently removes my hands from the dough, and starts kneading it himself, because I am used to him doing whatever he wants. He turns the dough putty in his large, capable hands.
I grab the chocolate chips and pour them on the dough. We work like a well oiled machine.
Dante breaks the machine by taking a huge bite of the dough, watching me for my reaction.
My closed fists find themselves on each side of my hips, my lips pursed. But then I sigh. Dante will always do whatever he wants to do. Besides… I was making it for him. If he wants to eat it before it’s ready, who am I to tell him no?
He looks at me, disappointed. He continues eating the dough anyway.
And I grin, because I know I won this time. Even if he was the one to get the treat.
I don’t stay a winner for much longer.
I shake my head. No.
“I’m not asking, moondust. You’re coming with me and that is final.”
"No."
His jaw ticks.
“It’s not forever, moonchild. It’s just until we deal with the stalker. And your house is freezing! You can’t live like this.”
"Then fix the window, because I’m staying here."
“Look. I get it. It’s a nice place, I like it too, but I am not willing to compromise on your safety.”
"Tough luck because I’m staying.”
He almost laughs but catches himself. “That is not the time to make me laugh, you minx.”
"I’m a jester. I jest."
“I’m gonna jest you on top of my shoulder if you keep this up. If I can’t see your hands, then the argument is over.”
"I will bite you."
Dante profoundly sighs, long suffering.
“Then I’ll move in. You leave me no choice. You did say I was yours and welcome here anytime,” he says. His grin is smug.
I glare but he knows he won, and he’s stupidly happy about it.
My house feels too small when he’s in it while it’s dark out. It’s not necessarily a bad thing. My house is just used to accommodate him in the light, not in the intimacy of the night.
After fixing my window for the time being, he looked for a place to sleep.
I can’t help the small soundless giggle that escapes me as I watch him try to find somewhere to sleep. He’s too big. None of my furniture fit him. “Are you sure you don’t wanna go sleep in your real room with your large sized bed and furniture that actually fit you?”
I’m taunting him because I can’t help it. He is too adorable, trying to fit all his muscles and long limbs in the makeshift bed, all because he is stubborn. I want to grab this moment and hold on to it forever. Cram it into my mouth so no one else can steal it from me.
“Only if you come with me.”
I stick my tongue out at him.
“Isabella misses you.” He goes for the jugular. I love Isabella. She’s like a mother to me, and I love that I am like a daughter to her. Dante’s her only child but she’s always wanted a daughter. She says I am the perfect daughter any mother would be lucky to have.
"Tell her I miss her too and that she is free to come over whenever she likes.”
I triumph, because I have won in our little game of chess.
He goes to sleep, grumbling to himself, and I only feel slightly bad seeing his discomfort. He’s the one who brought it upon himself.
Three steps into walking towards my bedroom, I take pity on him. I walk back over to him and nudge him with my foot.
"If you turn into a wolf, I’ll let you sleep with me." Even if his wolf form is actually bigger, it will be easier to share the bed with because I can just sleep on top of him. His wolf form is insanely soft and warm, so maybe I’m doing this more for myself than for him.
My fingers barely had the time to finish signing the word with that Dante’s already in lupin form, his tail wagging, his muzzle against my stomach, nudging me to start walking impatiently.
I smile so big it hurts my cheeks.
Dante
Dante lied awake the entire night, his entire body still.He shouldn’t have fixed the window. Now he doesn’t have a reason to wrap his large body around Moondust as she slept to keep her warm and cozy. But he supposed this could be good, too. This would have to suffice for now.
It wasn’t the strong winds that kept him awake. It wasn’t even his mind that was listening closely for any sound that was out of place from the usual forest sounds. It was Sera’s heartbeat.
He could feel the heartbeat, slow but strong and steady, from her softly rising up and down chest, like the mouvement of the tide. She used his underbelly as a pillow, her wavy grey, almost white hair, flowing around her like a flower crown, like the moon’s oniric glow that softens its edges. He wraps his tail around her midsection and watches with a painful heart as she moves in her sleep to wrap her arms around his tail.
You’re mine, she had said. And it was the truth. Dante couldn’t feel any hesitation, any stutter in her strong and steady heartbeat. She said it like she meant it, and it made his heart stutter in his chest for a second or two.
He wondered if she was aware of the weight of these words she had given him so freely. He wondered if she knew that she was his, too.
Knowing her, she didn’t. And it was a good thing, because it was quintessentially her. Unguarded, unburdened by pretenses and undertones. She always said what she felt.
The sweet scent of her dough had permeated her entire being. Even on the days she didn’t bake, Sera always smelled sweet like a treat that’s dangerous in high doses.
Good thing werewolves had a strong immune system. And even if they weren’t, what a way to go.
Grin in place, Dante waltzed into the place like he owned it – and he did. Well, his parents did, so he did too, by proxy. He waved to the other pack members, acting like he didn’t notice their curious stares and their hushed-loud whispers. He was reveling in the attention.
Only one of them actually said something about it.
“Dude, you reek of Sera. We could smell you all the way from here. Did she rub herself all over you the entire night?” Raelen said, scrunching his nose at the onslaught of potent sweet scent. “She made her famous biscuits, right? Did you bring any?”
“I did,” Dante replied in lazy smug smile. “But I’m not sharing.”
“You’re getting the treat and the baker. That’s so unfair,” Ronan complained before yowling in pain as Elysande twisted his ear. “What’d you do that for, woman!”
Dante snorted, tuning the bickering couple out. Raelen, hadn’t said anything yet. He was looking at Dante with squinted eyes.
Dante rapidly approached him and licked him over his face, from chin to forehead, sniggering to himself as Raelen spluttered in outraged disgust.
“See ya,” Dante said, calling over his shoulder. He ignored all the calls and insults that followed him.
His smile slowly faded as he made his way towards Valerian’s office, where he was sure to find Isabella too. Those two were like peas in a pod, except disgustingly sweet and unhealthy for you.
He knocked really hard, having learned from his lesson from that time he walked in on them kissing like no tomorrow.
“It’s me! Your son! Stop whatever it is you’re doing you wouldn’t want a young, sweet, innocent boy to see!”
A sigh so deep it could be heard through the noise blocking thick wood. “Come in,” Valerian said.
The moment he entered the large, sunny office, Isabella snickered. “Our son, sweet and innocent?” Then, talking to her husband, she adds, “Remember that time we found him with two–”
“Okay!” Dante interrupted a little too loudly. “This is actually serious, okay? Believe me, I’ve got many other things I would rather be doing right now.”
“Yeah, like go harass that poor sweet girl,” Valerian said, rolling his eyes.
Isabella perked up. “Oh! Speaking of her, how is she?”
His parents were worse than him when it came to Sera.
“That’s what I’m here for, actually. She asked me if there had been new people in our territory.”
Isabella frowned. “Why would she think that?”
“Because she keeps feeling like she’s being watched. And she said she thought she saw something once, but wasn’t sure if it was just her mind playing tricks on her.”
Valerian looked disturbed, staring at something at his desk while he thinks.
“That’s impossible. You reassured her, right? Told her it was just a trick of the lighting or something? It’s winter, everything moves and feels like it shouldn’t,” he rubbed the bridge of his strong nose, the one that Dante inherited. “I’m not saying it’s just in her head but…”
Dante understood him. If it weren’t Sera, he would have thought the same too because he knew firsthand how their territory was jealously guarded and how nothing can come in or out without their knowledge. On paper, it should be impossible that some people sneaked in and lingered long enough to be felt by Sera but not the leader. However, reality didn’t always follow neatly along the theory.
He put his biscuit packet on the desk and before they could ask what the hell he was doing, he opened it. It wasn’t filled with treats, but with a ripped sleeve. It had slowly taken the scent of vanilla, but the underlying scent remained unchanged.
His parents’s eyes widened at the same time the moment the smell hit them.
The smell of death and wet wood. The perfect blend to become invisible to werewolves.
